


past lives

by kagamiwa



Category: Day6 (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band), TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagamiwa/pseuds/kagamiwa
Summary: Sometimes you just have to let go.





	past lives

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to hachimitsuto's [light years](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9233894)

 

 

*

 

 

 

  
In the setting sun, Seungcheol’s eyes are the colour of fish sauce. Anchovy sauce, to be more precise. The thought of anchovy sauce makes her think of kimchi and her stomach growls in response. Nayeon groans and flops backwards on the grass beside the basketball court, staring up at the sky. The days are still short but with every day that passes the air grows just that little bit warmer – just another reminder that winter is leaving them.

“Oi, Seungcheol time to get going or your mother will worry!” she yells at the clouds. She hears a loud curse and the sound of the ball smacking against the court floor as the boys burst out laughing. She doesn’t need to look up to see Seungcheol grimacing as he gets shoved around by his friends.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop doing that,” Seungcheol glares at her when he trudges off the court and throws himself down beside her. “I was just about to score a three-pointer and you freaking made me miss.” He shoves his water bottle rather brusquely into his bag and blows upwards into his sweaty fringe.

“You would’ve missed anyway,” Nayeon grins. “I’m starving. You owe me a chocolate bun for making me wait.” Her stomach gives another pointed rumble as she gets to her feet and throws his heavy winter jacket at him. Seungcheol rolls his eyes.

“Seriously, with the amount of food you eat you’re gonna wake up one day and find that you’ve grown three times your size and can’t get out of bed.” Nayeon smacks him on the back only to come away with a palm full of sweat. “That’s what you get when you make me miss my three-pointer,” he tells her as she makes a horrified noise of protest and holds her hand out in front of her as if it’s been infected. She only stops grumbling when he stops by the bakery near his house and buys her a bun to shut her up.

 

 

 

“I’ve only been at school for 10 days and I’m already ready to graduate,” Nayeon groans, turning around and dramatically flinging her head on Seungcheol’s desk. Her hair spills over the surface and covers his phone where Lebron James was just about to shoot. Seungcheol pulls his hands and phone out from under her hair and places it on top without even batting an eyelid.

“You can’t graduate if you can’t pass your exams.” he says indifferently. “And if you can’t graduate you can’t get into Yonsei and go back to bothering Park Jinyoung instead of me. So please pass your exams. For my sake.”

For a few seconds Nayeon doesn’t respond and Seungcheol looks up from his phone to see if she’s fallen asleep. He can’t see anything under her mass of hair so he scoops up the side where he thinks her face is and pokes her cheek. “Hey. I was joking. You’re not still hung up over him are you?”

He’s rewarded with a glare that would melt the face off anyone other than him. “I’m not that pathetic Choi Seungcheol,” she declares, and sits up so fast that his phone slides off her hair and almost falls off the table if not for his (self-proclaimed) lightning quick reflexes. He clutches his most precious possession (second only to his basketball shoes) to his chest and stares up at her as she clatters to her feet and snatches up her duffle coat. “I’m going to buy some bread,” she says fiercely, looking down at him. Her eyes are murderous. “What the hell do you want?”

“Uhh, curry bread is fine,” Seungcheol says, a little bewildered at the sudden shift in her mood. She gives a sharp nod, turns violently and stalks towards the door. “Oh, and get me a Yakult too while you’re at it!” he yells at her back. She responds by slamming the sliding door behind her. The classroom noise dies a little at the sound but starts right back up a moment later.

“What did you do to her?” Jeonghan asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Girls are weird,” Seungcheol shakes his head. Jeonghan nods sleepily in agreement and puts his head back under his textbook. Seungcheol sighs. Deep down he’s perfectly aware by the weird little inflection in her voice when she said she was fine that she really probably wasn’t.

 

 

 

“Dumb,” Nayeon narrows her eyes at the vending machine as she looks for the Yakult. “Boys are dumb. Boys are so so SO DUMB!” she punches a finger into the button a little too violently and the machine shakes a little as the drink falls into the tray. A few passing students glance at her before deciding to give the angry girl glowering at the vending machine a wide berth. They’ll just wait til the next break for their banana milk.

“I’ll never trust another boy again,” Nayeon announces to the ceiling as she walks back to the classroom. “They’re all dumb.” She’s just entered the senior hallway when someone comes out of the classroom behind theirs and walks towards her.

Nayeon’s first thought is that she’s never seen this guy before. Her second thought is _whoa._

He doesn’t even spare her a glance when they pass each other, but it feels less of him ignoring her and more of him looking at his feet. His hair is dark and messier than Seungcheol’s and even though it looks as though he’s the same height as her best friend there’s something about him that seems taller. She stops and watches his back as he walks down the corridor. Gangly seems like a better word for it, she thinks. There’s an awkward ungainliness in his walk, as if his body had suddenly grown overnight and he still hasn’t caught up with it.

But despite all of that – his height, his hair, the small black earphones nestled his ears – the one thing that really catches Nayeon’s eye is his hands. Drumming rapidly through the air in short, sharp gestures, occasionally stretching out beyond him to hit what Nayeon can only guess is an invisible cymbal. He doesn’t even flinch when another guy walks past and gives him a weird look. She’s never seen anyone like this before; someone who walks with such an air of self-consciousness and yet doesn’t seem perturbed by anything at all.

Nayeon keeps looking until he turns to go down the stairs and disappears from sight.

 

 

 

Seungcheol drops his bag on the floor as soon as he closes the door behind him. “Ma, what’s for dinner?” he calls out as he takes off his shoes, fully intending to collapse on the couch and pass out until he’s called to eat. He gets the rudest shock of his life when he walks into the living room to find Nayeon sitting cross-legged on said couch, eating out of a huge packet of his corn puffs and playing Breath of the Wild on (dare he say) _his_ Nintendo Switch.

“What in the actual f -,” he starts, then remembers his mother is in the kitchen and hastily shuts his mouth. He settles for a glare as Nayeon smiles that bunny-toothed smile at him. Nayeon has several bunny-toothed smiles for different occasions and this one seems to be the _ha, totally got you this time didn’t I?_ one. “Don’t you have a home to go to?” he manages instead, striding over and taking the Switch from her (“Hey, I’m in the middle of a fight!”).

“Ever since my dearest oppa went to university and left me behind the house has been too quiet,” Nayeon says with an expert lip tremble, pulling the corn puff bag out of the way so he can’t take it from her too. “You’re the only family I have left.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, trying to snatch at the bag. “Don’t try to give me that, your parents are still alive and kicking. And they probably don’t like you spending most of your time in someone else’s house. Especially a dude’s.” She smacks his hand away and he stares at her in mock horror.

“Come on, I bet you secretly love having me around,” Nayeon smirks at him. “Your mom definitely does and she doesn’t make a secret out of it, right omoni?” she yells towards the kitchen.

“Seungcheol stop being rude to your friend!” his mother yells back. Nayeon laughs as Seungcheol deadpans. “We’re having bibimbap,” she tells him. “And I made the anchovy side dish. So you’d better eat it.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” Seungcheol says vaguely, eyes already on the Switch, picking up where she left off. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her make a movement as if she’s about to smack him one but seems to change her mind and sinks into the cushions behind her. She puts her legs up on his knees. “So how was practice?” she asks.

“Tiring as hell. We had tryouts,” he replies distractedly. He finishes the battle and puts down the Switch, holding out his hand for the corn puff bag. Nayeon passes it to him without hesitation. “This new guy in our year tried out and he’s actually pretty good. Too bad he probably won’t get to play much since Sungjae will probably want to concentrate more on the first years.”

“I didn’t know we had a new kid,” Nayeon thinks back to the guy she passed in the corridor the other day. Could it be…?

“It’s weird right? Changing schools in your last year. A little dumb if you ask me. Having to make new friends, get a new uniform, get used to the teachers… plus he’s so quiet I can’t imagine him making much of an impression on anyone. Kinda sad, really.” Seungcheol stuffs a handful of corn puffs into his mouth and frowns. The bag feels a little too light for his liking.

“What was his name?” Nayeon goes back to looking at her phone. Seungcheol takes a peek into the bag and only finds a small handful of puffs left. He looks sadly over at her and wonders how on earth he managed to be friends with someone who can eat a whole bag of corn puffs on her own.

“I don’t remember. Like I said, he didn’t make much of an impression,” he pushes her legs off his and gets up to see what else he can snack on before his mother yells at him for spoiling his appetite.

 

 

 

She sneaks over to the gym every lunch time when Seungcheol is there, knowing that one way or another the mysterious new boy would be around there too. Or at least, he should be.

If he is, she doesn’t see him.

Nayeon sighs as she slumps on one of the benches overlooking the playing field. Her breath still forms in puffs in the chilly air. Some boys are kicking a football around, and in one corner the school cheerleaders are rehearsing a routine. Nayeon watches them all without much interest, thinking instead of how best to go about getting the guy’s name.

She could storm the next class and ask Kim Jisoo (she’s always found it hilarious how both their classes have a Jisoo as a class rep) for his name but she knows all too well that asking for the name of someone of the opposite sex is just asking for some very loud wolf whistles and inappropriate suggestions. Or she could just look for Jisoo in the library where she always is and just ask her there.

“Yes!” Nayeon says to herself, bolting to her feet. That’s exactly what she’ll do. Jisoo would be fine with it. She turns to run down to the library before the bell goes and that’s when she sees him walking up the hallway.

His hands are in his pockets this time and his earphones aren’t in his ears and the energy she felt when she first passed him in the corridor just doesn’t seem to be there. For a second their eyes meet briefly, and then he hurriedly looks back at his feet and walks on.

Nayeon watches him go, then runs off to the library.

 

 

 

His name is Yoon Dowoon.

“He just arrived from Busan. He’s so shy and his voice is so deep and low that on the first day when he came in none of us could really hear what he said,” Jisoo leans back in her chair and scrutinizes Nayeon. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just heard rumours that we had a new guy,” Nayeon tries to play it cool but Jisoo’s smile is all-knowing. “Seungcheol told me when they had basketball tryouts. He said he was pretty good.”

Jisoo nods. “Oh yeah, Sanghyuk mentioned it too. I don’t see how he’d be able to work in a team though; I mean he hardly talks to anyone.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I’d really like to help him but it’s really hard to keep talking to someone who barely responds.”

“Hmm,” Nayeon replies. “Anyway, I’d better leave you to your studying,” she vaguely waves a hand at the books stacked up on the table. She’s always sort of admired Jisoo for being able to eat up books for nourishment. The only thing she could really eat is bread bought by Seungcheol.

“I heard he’s a drummer in a band by the way,” Jisoo calls out as she turns to go. Everyone raises their heads to look at her and the librarian gives them a stern look from the counter. Jisoo grins mischievously despite the disapproval and waggles her eyebrows at Nayeon. “In case you wanted to know.”

Nayeon tries to imagine Yoon Dowoon behind a drum set, cymbals glinting gold under bright lights, hands moving rapidly, and finds that it isn’t hard to believe at all.

 

 

 

“Oi,” Seungcheol snaps his fingers in front of Nayeon’s face. He’d dragged his chair up to her desk a minute ago but she hadn’t asked what he wanted or even tried to shove him away, so he figured something was probably up. He waves a hand in front of her face, notices the faraway look in her eyes as she leans her elbows against her desk, hands cupping her chin. She’s a million miles away, and it’s a look he’s seen a thousand other times before though it hasn’t been around much lately.

He points a finger in front of her eye and traces her line of sight out of the classroom to the hallway. He catches a glimpse of steadily moving hands as a boy walks into view. A boy he’s seen before. His hair is mussed and he seems to be in his own world as he walks in front of the doorway. He traces the line back as Nayeon’s face lights up into the widest, biggest bunny-toothed smile. What.

“Really?” he asks incredulously. The name comes to him so easily he’s surprised he even forgot it. “Yoon Dowoon?”

Almost immediately Nayeon snaps out of it. “What do you want?” she kicks at his chair leg. “I’m busy here.”

“Ogling at the new boy doesn’t count as ‘busy’,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “He’s a weirdo, you know. No one goes around air drumming all the time. And he doesn’t even talk to anyone. He’s never going to talk to you.”

“What the hell do you know about him huh? You couldn’t even remember his name,” Nayeon rolls her eyes back, trying to push him out of the way as Dowoon makes his way past the classroom. “Jisoo-K says he’s a drummer in a band. Isn’t that so cool?” Her eyes follow his every move and Seungcheol can almost see them sparkling in admiration. He scoffs in disbelief.

“I probably know more than you do,” he shoots back, throwing his arms up in surrender as she shoves at his chair with her foot, almost toppling him over. “Geez, I’ll leave you alone alright? Stop trying to injure me, woman.”

“I need to think of a good way to accidentally bump into him,” Nayeon says half to herself as Dowoon disappears from view. She suddenly grabs on to Seungcheol’s school jacket, smiling that wheedling, innocent smile she always uses when she wants him to get bread for her. “Hey Seungcheol, you’re my best friend aren’t you?”

“I’m not setting you up,” Seungcheol deadpans, dragging his seat back to his desk behind her. “I don’t even know the guy. And you were a lot less wild when you were in love with Park Jinyoung,” he adds.

For a second Nayeon’s smile fizzles as if something has interfered with the connection, then returns even brighter. “Jinyoung wasn’t a bad boy.” She winks at him as Seungcheol mimes throwing up on the floor. He watches her out of the corner of one eye as she bounds to the classroom door and sticks her head outside, probably staring after Yoon Dowoon. 6 months since she last saw Park Jinyoung and the light in her eyes still dulls a little every time she hears his name.

Seungcheol sighs and digs his phone out of his pocket. _Practice with the new recruits next week?_ he texts to Sungjae.

_Yeah. Got a practice match soon. I’ll probably call that Dowoon guy to come as well._

Seungcheol looks over at Nayeon in the doorway, still grinning to herself. Im Nayeon has a variety of bunny-toothed smiles for different occasions, but he’s pretty sure he’s never seen one as deliriously happy as the one she had when she was looking at Yoon Dowoon. He sighs again.

_Cool._

 

 

 

Plenty of surprising things have happened in Dowoon’s life – his parents’ divorce, losing his scarf one day and finding it on the pavement a week later, having to drop everything in Busan and move to Seoul with his father – but nothing has really been as surprising as getting called to practice with his new school’s basketball team.

“You’re good,” says the vice-captain, a sleepy-looking guy with an obstinate mouth. Dowoon vaguely remembers his name as Seungcheol. “To be honest we’ll probably end up giving more playing opportunities to the younger kids since we all won’t be able to play as much soon, but it’s good to have you come to practice anyway.”

“Oh,” Dowoon says. “Thanks.”

“And if… you know… if you need, like, help or anything like that, you can ask me or something.”

“What?”

A frown flits across Seungcheol’s face, then clears. “It’s not easy being a new kid,” he finally says, and to Dowoon it sounds like he’s struggling to get the words out of his mouth. The discomfort in Seungcheol’s face is almost laughable and he tries to keep from grinning. “…”

“Oi Seungcheol, get over here and help me check on these kid’s footwork!” the captain – Sungjae, Dowoon thinks his name was – suddenly yells from the court. Dowoon thinks he sees something like relief written on Seungcheol’s face when he gives him an awkward pat on the shoulder and gets up a little too eagerly. He isn’t too surprised. People always tend to be more than willing to get away from him.

“Like I said!” Seungcheol suddenly turns around and yells, walking backwards. “Just ask!” He throws a thumbs-up into the air and runs off.

For the first time since coming to Seoul, Dowoon smiles.

 

 

 

He still doesn’t quite know the school layout so when Jisoo announces that he’s on homework duty today everyone turns to look at him to see if he’ll ask for help to get to the teacher’s office. Jisoo’s polite expression is particularly nudging.

But try as he might he just can’t muster up the courage to look people in eye much less ask them for directions so when the bell goes for the end of the day and people start leaving he goes up to the front desk and heaves the enormous pile of notebooks into his arms without saying a word.

“Dowoon!” Jisoo taps him on the shoulder. “Do you know where the teacher’s office is? Do you want me to show you?”

He can’t quite look her in the eye so he settles for her nose. “Yeah, I think I do. It’s okay. Thanks.” He tries to look reassuring. He’s sure it doesn’t suit his face. Jisoo doesn’t look like she believes him but she nods and lets him go anyway.

Dowoon was so sure the teacher’s office was down the stairs and a right turn into the next building so how is it that he’s ended up standing in the middle of an empty hallway with nothing but the music rooms on either side of him?

If his hands were free he would facepalm.

He’s heading back the way he came and has just started up the stairs when a girl turns the corner. He’s seen her around before, maybe. She might be in the class next to his. He might have passed her in the corridor. He pauses to let her go first but she stops at the landing, her hand on the railing. Her head tilts to one side.

“Hey, you’re the new guy aren’t you?” she asks. He thinks he detects something like breathlessness in her voice but he can’t be too sure.

“Yeah.”

“Are you on homework duty today?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you lost?”

Dowoon weighs his options. He could try going alone again and get hopelessly lost (again) or for once in his life he could just ask for help. He looks up at the girl and she stares expectantly back. She smiles the friendliest smile he has ever seen since leaving the town he grew up in, and he makes up his mind.

“Actually yeah,” he says with an awkward laugh. “I guess I’m a little lost.”

She bounds down the stairs and takes half of the notebooks from him before he can even blink. He tries to protest but she shakes her head. “It’ll be weird if I just showed you the way and let you carry everything on your own,” she says, starting up the stairs again. “Follow me.”

He follows her (they turn right at the staircase) and when they get into the other building she turns left and heads back down the stairs. “You’d think it’ll all be straightforward or something but nooo,” she says when they arrive at the door marked _teacher’s room_. “Go ahead and knock.”

“Uhhh…” he says uncertainly.

“This is math isn’t it? You’ll be looking for Mr. Byun.”

She’s still staring at him so he steels himself, balances the stack of books in one hand and knocks with the other. They march in silently with their backs as straight as they can be and set the books on the desk a teacher points out to them, then march just as quietly back out. When they head back up the stairs Dowoon and the girl look at each other and she starts chuckling. He grins.

(“You should make some friends,” his dad says as they sit together in the morning, the freshly brewed pot of coffee sending tendrils of steam into the air. In the morning sunlight his father’s thinning hair seems less grey and the boxes of their unpacked stuff seems less of a reminder of their pain and more like a symbol of a fresh start. “I know it’ll be your only year in that school but you should still make some good memories of your last year. You won’t get it again.”

Dowoon swallows the last of his bread and jam. “I’ll try.”

It’s been almost a month and he still hasn’t really tried.)

“I’m Nayeon, by the way,” the girl tells him when she stops laughing. Dowoon suddenly realizes where he’s seen her before – scolding the vending machine near the gym two weeks ago. He ended up having to wait until lunch to get his grape juice because he was too scared to go near her. He feels his shoulders relax a little.

“I’m Dowoon,” he says. She smiles like she already knows.

 

 

 

Suddenly the days feel a lot lighter to Nayeon. It isn’t just the prospect of warmer weather, it’s also the fact that she actually _talked_ to Yoon Dowoon. Without turning into a tomato. Amazing. Granted he couldn’t really look her in the eye and the air of awkwardness around him only seemed to magnify but _still_. She talked to him. And he replied.

She spies him when she enters the cafeteria. The rain that’s been threatening to fall for the past few days has finally broken into a soft constant drizzle and Seungcheol is home with a fever (probably from playing too much basketball) so she’s alone during lunch. He’s sitting at a small table beside the window, his earphones hung over his ears and absentmindedly swirling his kimchi jjigae around with his spoon.

Nayeon grabs a tray and heads over. “Hey,” she says when she’s beside him. He gives a start and almost knocks the bowl over. She tries to keep from smiling too hard.

“Oh, umm, hi,” he stammers, hurriedly setting the spoon down with a clatter.

“Mind if I sit here?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

He pulls his tray towards him to make some space and nods, still looking down at the table. She likes the way his hair falls into his eyes. Nayeon notices the small black studs in his ears as she places her own tray down and takes a seat. She wants to ask him so much why his ears are pierced, where he did it, how much did it hurt? She’s aware that she had never felt this same amount of curiousity when she looked at Jinyoung.

“Man, it’s really wet isn’t it?” she remarks as she picks up a mini pancake between her chopsticks as delicately as she can. She once tried to make kimchi pajeon as small as this when Jinyoung came over after school but the consistency was rubbish and she ended up throwing everything out. He and her brother never found out. “Nothing like a spring shower to get you in a good mood.”

“Hmm,” says Dowoon. She looks up to find him looking at her pajeon, and he hastily returns his gaze out the window. There’s a small section of his hair that isn’t flowing the same way as the rest. She thinks it’s adorable.

“Does it rain a lot in Busan?”

“Yeah, especially around this time.” He’s still staring out the window. She used to see the same wistfulness in Jinyoung’s eyes when he looked at Suji.

“Rain like this reminds me of my hometown,” she says, spearing a potato and popping it into her mouth to distract herself from the unexpected memory. He looks at her, and she realizes just how unladylike that was. She curses inwardly. “We used to live along the coast but moved here when I was in primary school,” she says by way of explanation. There’s a little gleam of recognition in his eyes now. “Whenever it rains like this the smell reminds me a little of the ocean.”

The corner of his mouth lifts a little. His gaze doesn’t break. “It’s a good smell isn’t it?”

She smiles back. “The best.”

They spend the remainder of lunch finishing off their food in a slightly more comfortable silence. When they go to return their trays and walk back to the classroom, taking care not to bump into each other, the rain still hasn’t stopped.

 

 

 

“How was school today?” his father asks when he gets in the door. He smiles approvingly at the books scattered across the kitchen table, and Dowoon starts placing them in neater piles to make some space.

“There’s still some dubu jjigae left,” he says. “And some broiled fish. If you want.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve already had dinner,” his father pats him on the shoulder a little awkwardly. They’ve never been much for skinship, he and his dad, but ever since the divorce Dowoon thinks he’s been trying a little harder. Sometimes he wishes he wouldn’t. “So how was school?” he repeats as he takes off his coat and shakes the droplets from it.

Dowoon thinks about Nayeon sitting across from him, shoving a potato into her mouth and talking about the smell of the rain. There’s something warm that seems to radiate from her, and while they didn’t talk much he was aware that for the rest of the school day the weight in his stomach that always seemed to be there had lessened a little.

“Good,” he replied. “Got plenty of homework,” he gestures at the books, “as you can see.” His father nods and mutters something about a good school knows how to work its kids right as he loosens his tie, then announces that he’s going to take shower.

“School today was less lonely,” Dowoon says to the closed bathroom door. He spins his pen in his hand and smiles to himself when his father starts to sing amidst the hiss of the water flowing from the shower head.

 

 

 

For the next three days Nayeon wakes up to a soft drizzle outside her window. It gives her an extra boost of energy as she jumps out of bed and rushes around getting ready for school. Apparently a crush who doesn’t live in the same neighbourhood isn’t quite enough to make her get out of bed on time but she still arrives at school earlier than usual in case she might ‘accidentally’ bump into him.

By lunchtime she’s fidgety and when the bell goes she waits a full five minutes before leaving. She’s just grateful that Seungcheol is still out sick since it means she can do whatever the hell she wants. Well, she’d still be able to do whatever the hell she wants but she’d also have to deal with his questions. And she can’t tell him about Dowoon. Not yet. Not until she’s certain that she’s not going to get her heart broken this time.

His smiles get a little less uncertain with each passing day. He’s always sitting in the same spot, looking out the window. One time his earphones were in and he took them out when she sat down. She told him to put them back on since she had some reading to do but in truth she just wanted to enjoy the silence between them. She hoped he found it as comfortable as she did.

“How long do you think this rain will last?” Dowoon asks on the fourth day of their sitting together. Nayeon is munching on a curry bun and trying to get her head around math. Dowoon has a half-eaten bibimbap and a world history textbook open. She actually caught him watching the entrance when she entered the cafeteria and he even smiled at her first when she walked over. It made her want to flip a table in happiness.

“Not that long,” she replies. “It probably won’t rain like this again until summer.”

He nods and goes back to his book. Nayeon has half a mind to ask if they can still have lunch together anyway but decides not to. She’s satisfied to just sit there with him and know that he’s content to do the same with her.

Over the weekend the rain clears. When Monday arrives Seungcheol comes back to school looking like death. Nayeon goes to the cafeteria like always but the table beside the window is empty.

 

 

 

“So I heard you’re in a band,” Seungcheol passes a bottle to Dowoon. Dowoon takes it with a tilt of the head. Seungcheol notices that he doesn’t drink it immediately.

“Yeah. Just a hobby, I guess.” Dowoon cracks open the lid. Seungcheol gets the impression that he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

“That’s pretty cool. My parents tried to get me to learn the violin as a kid but obviously that didn’t turn out so well.” He throws a bottle at a passing Jeonghan, who catches it neatly with one hand. Since he hasn’t quite recovered from his fever yet he’s on water bottle duty, which suits him just fine. “I, uhh, snapped a string on the first lesson,” he adds.

Dowoon manages an awkward laugh. It’s incredibly gratifying to Seungcheol, being able to make this strange, shy specimen of a guy actually smile. Even if it does seem a little forced. Their conversations are still pretty one-sided and the silences are still heavy with, well, silence, but he seems kind of cool. In a strange, shy kind of way. Seungcheol still can’t quite figure out what Nayeon sees in him, though. Oh well.

“Hey maybe one of these days we can hang out,” he finds himself blurting out. “Catch a movie or go to the arcade or something.” What.

The look of surprise on Dowoon’s face is actually pretty funny because if Seungcheol’s inner thoughts were conveyed on his face he’d probably have the same exact expression. But before Dowoon can reply Sungjae announces that break time is over and do they want to get their asses handed to them like the last practice match or what?

“That’ll be cool,” Dowoon hands the empty bottle back to Seungcheol. His hands reflexively closes around it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” For once Dowoon’s smile actually looks somewhat natural before he jogs away.

 

 

 

Nayeon catches up with him just before they get to school. He’s ambling along slowly with his usual morning sleepiness, a piece of toast sticking out of his mouth and his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. He’s lost some weight since his fever but Nayeon leans over and steals the other slice sticking out from under his jacket collar anyway.

Seungcheol makes a noise of protest around his half-eaten toast and rapidly inhales the whole thing. “Hey, I need that,” he says, quickly swallowing. “I’ve got no lunch money.”

“I made some food,” Nayeon says nonchalantly, taking a big bite out of the toast as Seungcheol lunges for it. “I’ll give you some.”

The indignation on his face is replaced by extreme shock. “You actually made lunch? _You?_ No way. Who are you and what have you done with Im Nayeon?”

“Shut up,” she frowns and punches him on the arm. “I’m a little broke too. I bought too many snacks. All those late nights spent studying, you know.” She hopes he buys it. Hell if she’s going to tell him that she made food so she could share it with Yoon Dowoon.

“Like hell you study. You went to sleep at 9pm the other night because you were bored,” Seungcheol pulls another slice of toast out of his pocket and starts chewing. “I have the messages if you want to see them.”

Nayeon doesn’t have a good comeback for that so she just keeps walking, swallowing the remnants of Seungcheol’s stolen toast. He finishes his second slice and fishes a third one out from the other pocket of his jacket just as the school gates come into view.

“Why don’t you have lunch money anyway?” she ventures.

“Gotta save up for… something.”

“What, you got a date?”

There’s a pause. “No,” Seungcheol replies lightly. Too lightly. Nayeon grabs his collar, staring wildly at him. Seungcheol never pauses before he answers. “Oh my god, do you actually have a date?!” she cries out. Several passing students start walking faster. She shakes him a little. “Choi Seungcheol!”

Eyes wide, he points at his throat, then at the half-eaten toast in his mouth, and she hurriedly releases him. He bends over, thumping on his chest and coughing crumbs out of his mouth. “Are you trying to kill me?!” he demands when he’s finished. She hands him a water bottle. He kicks her on the shin. “I swear you’re gonna kill me one of these days Im Nayeon.”

“So do you have a date or not?”

“I already told you no!”

“But you paused!”

“It was for dramatic effect you idiot!”

She gives him a long hard stare. He crosses his arms across his chest and stares back. They stand that way for some time, neither refusing to back down. Nayeon tries to look for a hint of a lie in his face but Seungcheol’s expression is impenetrable. He raises an eyebrow at her. Finally she blinks and pulls a face at him.

“Fine, I believe you. I’m sorry you almost choked to death on your toast.” She turns and starts walking again. Seungcheol falls into step beside her.

“Why is it such a big deal if I actually get a date anyway?” he asks.

She looks up at him. His expression tells her that he’s already guessed what her problem is. “I’d just like to know beforehand if you’re going out with a girl,” is all she says.

“…but why??”

“Because that’s just what friends do.” She looks straight ahead and shoves her hands into her jacket pockets to warm them, suddenly embarrassed by this whole conversation. “Anyway wouldn’t you like some advice from a fellow girl so you don’t fail spectacularly on your date?” She digs her elbow into his side.

He chuckles and elbows her back. “You know I would never betray you, Im Nayeon.”

“Good,” she says. They march through the school gates and across the grounds. She’s not pleased at the insinuation that she’d be jealous but she’s content with his promise. “Make sure you don’t.”

 

 

 

She’d shoved three rolls of kimbap and a Yakult into Seungcheol’s hands before claiming she was going to eat lunch with Jisoo-K and running out of the room. She searched the cafeteria high and low but couldn’t spot Dowoon, so she spent an extra 10 minutes searching the outdoor hallways in case she might run into him. She didn’t.

 _Jesus how much kimbap did you make if you can give me three?_ Seungcheol texts her as she sits alone on a bench under a ginkgo tree. It’s a good day, sunrays falling through the branches studded with tiny leaves and over her shoulders. Nayeon looks down at the box in her lap containing the remaining seven kimbap and sighs.

 _I’m starving_ , is all she texts back. The truth is she’s actually kind of lost her appetite for the day.

She starts walking listlessly back to the classroom, and that’s when she catches sight of messy hair bobbing between the bushes a stone’s throw from where she had been sitting. She stops dead in her tracks and decides to get closer to see if it really is him. It is; eyes closed, hair a dark brown in the bright sunlight, hands drumming to the song playing through his earphones, body physically here but his mind floating off in the outer reaches of space.

Nayeon could stand there and watch him forever, drinking in the energy flowing from him but instead she takes a deep breath, steels herself, and crouches down beside him. She taps him on the shoulder and he jumps violently, turning to stare at her. He quickly pulls his earphones off, his cheeks red. “Hi,” he says in a voice lower than usual. He clears his throat.

“Hey,” she beams. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

His smile is a cross between pleased and uncertain. They stay like that for a few seconds and then she remembers why she really came. “Oh!” She digs out the box and opens it as elegantly as possible. “I made some kimbap to share with my friend but she ended up calling in sick,” she lies through her teeth. “You can take some if you’d like.”

“Oh,” Dowoon says. “Umm…” His mouth like he’s about to politely decline but his eyes seem to be saying something else. Nayeon seizes the opportunity.

“Come on,” she smiles her best, most cajoling smile. “I’ve got too many. If you don’t help me eat some now they won’t be nice anymore by the end of the day.” She thinks about going for a pout but decides not to. She’s going for charming, not childish. She pushes the box a little closer to him, silently prodding him along. “Don’t worry, I’m offering.”

“I…” Dowoon falters, but his hand is already reaching out a little. He hesitates, and looks at Nayeon as if asking for permission.

“Really, help yourself,” she tells him. He takes one, and she sets the box down between them as she settles on the grass beside him. The ground is a little damp but otherwise not too uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” he says.

She waves his thanks away. “Don’t mention it. How is it?”

“Not as bad as I thought it would be,” he replies, and she catches a hint of cheek in his voice.

“Ex _cuse_ me?” She turns to him in mock horror, pressing a hand to her chest. “How dare you. I’ll have you know that I am the best cook in our year.” He only grins at her – a full blown smile this time – and chuckles. The fact that she actually managed to make him laugh stuns Nayeon into silence for a full second, and in confusion she takes a kimbap herself and starts chewing.

“Hey Nayeon,” Dowoon suddenly says. She gulps down her bite and tries to will herself to not blush. This is the first time he’s ever said her name. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

He smiles bashfully, his cheeks a little red again as he looks out at the playing field. The football kids are sprinting back and forth between two cones. On the other side the cheerleaders are practicing throws. Dowoon shrugs. “Just felt like thanking you.” He looks her square in the eye for a moment before turning away.

He can probably feel the heat radiating from her face. She’s really in trouble now.

 

 

 

Seungcheol waits for Dowoon at the train station. Nayeon had been in a really cheerful mood after her lunch with Jisoo-K, and when he told her he had things to do after school she said bye and left him without putting up a fight. She must have had a really good talk, Seungcheol speculated. It stung a little to think that he might be getting replaced after he told her that he wouldn’t betray her but he let it go a moment later. Let the girl have some girl time.

“I thought the new Fast and Furious was out but it isn’t yet,” he says when Dowoon arrives. He looks a lot more casual out of school, his shirt sticking out from under his jumper and a big scarf wrapped around his neck. The nervous air that usually accompanies him seems to have dispelled a little. Looking like that, Seungcheol can actually believe that he’s in a band. “But Logan is still showing, if you haven’t watched that.”

“Hmm,” says Dowoon. “I heard Logan’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, me too,” Seungcheol nods. “I haven’t watched it either,” he says as they wait for the train. “Basketball has just sucked up all my free time. I love the sport,” he adds quickly, just in case Dowoon gets the wrong idea. “But being one of the people in charge is a huge burden. Chasing down kids who don’t turn up to practice is tiring as hell, you know?”

Dowoon grins. “I can imagine.” The train arrives. The seats are full so they stand by the doorway across from each other. Dowoon seems preoccupied with looking out the door, and although Seungcheol can’t see what’s so fascinating about the walls of the subway the carriage is a little quiet and he doesn’t want to make too much noise so he lapses into silence too until they arrive at their stop.

 

 

 

The train ride home is just as quiet as the ride there. This time, however, they have seats and while not too long ago they were both extremely enthusiastic about reviewing the movie from start to finish, Seungcheol finds his eyes closing a little as he sits with his arms crossed over his chest. A little girl is sitting directly opposite him quietly reading a book, her mother engrossed in her phone. Beside him Dowoon seems to have dozed off, the bottom half of his face buried in his scarf. Lulled by the silence and the swaying of the train, Seungcheol’s head droops and in a few seconds he drifts off too.

He’s awakened by a high-pitched little girl’s voice saying “Mummy look, they’re a couple!”

Seungcheol jerks awake. The little girl is staring straight at him. And at Dowoon, who has slumped over sideways and now has his head on Seungcheol’s shoulder. The little girl’s mum glances over, sees his horrified expression and swiftly apologizes, trying to hush up her daughter. “A couple!” the girl chirps one last time before going back to her book.

Seungcheol bites his lip and stares at the ceiling, trying hard not to concentrate on the fact that the train is suddenly very warm. The carriage shudders as it comes to a stop at the next station, and Dowoon’s head rolls off his shoulder. He jolts upright, looking around him in confusion.

“Bye!” the little girl sings, and waves at Seungcheol as she exits the train.

“What was that about?” Dowoon asks blearily.

“Nothing,” Seungcheol mumbles.

 

 

 

They grab burgers in the shopping district. The restaurant is full of other students, and Seungcheol is relieved to see a few other guys eating with a friend too. It’s a cool crisp night, colder than Seungcheol anticipated, and in the glare of the streetlights his breath mists in front of him. He gets a double patty beef burger and Dowoon gets a fish burger and later when they’re walking home Dowoon suddenly asks if he wants an ice cream.

“It’s a bit too cold for ice cream don’t you think?” Seungcheol hunches his shoulders further into his school jacket. Even the extra hoodie he’d brought isn’t quite as warm as he’d like.

“Doesn’t eating something cold on a cold day make you feel more alive?” Dowoon replies. Seungcheol eyes him for a good second and finally relents. “Samanco for me, thanks.” He waits at the window counter, blowing on his hands for warmth while Dowoon grabs the ice cream.

“Here you go,” Dowoon hands him the packet. He refuses to take the money Seungcheol offers him and instead takes a seat on the stool beside him. “Cheers,” he says merrily. Seungcheol unwraps his fish-shaped ice cream waffle and knocks it against his Melona. They both grin.

“Speaking of basketball,” Dowoon says halfway through his ice cream, “I won’t be able to come for practice over the next week.” He’s staring out the window again, watching passersby hurry along the street.

“Oh?” Seungcheol licks at some ice cream that’s dripping down his waffle. “What’s up?”

“I’ve got a gig coming up,” Dowoon says easily. “So we’ll be meeting up more for practice.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol says again. “Yeah. Okay. That’s cool.” They fall back into silence, Seungcheol chewing thoughtfully on his snack and thinking that Nayeon would love to go if she knew about this gig. A stroke of inspiration hits him, and he turns to Dowoon. “Out of curiousity, can I know where and when you’re playing?”

Dowoon looks a little hesitant. “Uhh…”

“It’s not for me,” Seungcheol waves his hand around. “You know, I’m not much into music and all that. But I, uh, have a friend, she’s really into indie bands and stuff like that. I’m sure she’d love to check you guys out.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, if you’re not comfortable with it…”

“… It’s cool.” Dowoon takes out his phone and sends him a poster. “That’s our band right there.” he points at a name in the lineup. Seungcheol squints at it and nods. Nayeon owes him a lifetime of food for this.

Dowoon doesn’t invite him to come along and Seungcheol doesn’t mention it. Not that he really wants to, anyway. Leave the swooning to Nayeon. His work here is pretty much done.

 

 

 

 The cafe is crowded. Every seat is taken and in the small standing room strangers press in on Nayeon from every side, and her hair is sticking to her forehead from the perspiration. Her heart won’t stop hammering in her chest; she’s never done anything like this in her life. Ever. She can just imagine Jaebum’s reaction if he ever found out that she came to Hongdae at night alone just to see a boy. She’s just grateful that Dowoon’s band isn’t performing in a club.  
  
The first few performers have already played some sets, and although Nayeon really isn’t musically inclined – the most she’s ever done is play Baa Baa Black Sheep on the recorder back in primary school – she finds her feet tapping and head nodding along to the music. She doesn’t have a clear view of the tiny platform at the front of the café serving as a stage, so she keeps her ears strained every time a new band is announced and her eyes on the photo of the gig that Seungcheol sent to her.  
  
(“I’ve got some information for you,” he pulls his chair up to her desk during their free period. “Highly valuable information I think you’ll be extremely interested in.”  
  
“What is it?” she frowns. He has this mischievous glint in his eye that she hardly ever sees. It really can’t be anything good.  
  
“Okay, but promise you can’t tell anyone.” Seungcheol pulls out his phone, then pauses. “And if you get caught you can’t implicate me in any way, okay? I didn’t tell you any of this.” She kicks him hard on the shin to get him to hurry up but instead of getting mad he just laughs. Well. She’s really interested now.  
  
He slides his phone towards her. It’s a poster with several names on it, none of which make any sense to her, a date and time and the name of a café in Hongdae. Really hipster stuff. Nayeon cocks her head at the photo and looks quizzically back at Seungcheol. “Since when did you become so trendy?”  
  
He only smirks and circles a name on the list. “This band. I think you’d really like to go and see them.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“There’s a guy in it you’d probably want to see.”  
  
It only takes a few seconds to realize what he’s talking about. Nayeon shrieks and everyone in class turns their heads just in time to see her throw her arms around Seungcheol and knock him off his chair.)  
  
Now, surrounded by some of the coolest – and maybe weirdest – people she has ever seen, Nayeon kind of wishes Seungcheol was with her. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so out of place. And what is she going to do when she sees Dowoon anyway? What if he doesn’t want to see her? He didn’t invite her after all, she invited herself. Or at least Seungcheol invited her. Maybe she shouldn’t have come after all. She’s so flustered by the whole situation that she doesn’t hear the announcement for the next band and only realizes what is going on when some people start cheering and she gets shoved closer to the stage. She’s positioned perfectly between some people’s shoulders so she has a clear view of Dowoon when he twirls his drumsticks and starts up a beat.  
  
The crowd cheers. Nayeon feels her heart stop in her chest. Dowoon keeps up a steady, quiet pace while the other guys do their final sound checks and she can’t stop tear her eyes away. He looks different. This Dowoon grins with reckless abandon. The confident glint in his eye is one that she’s never seen before. Rooted to the spot, Nayeon gets the feeling that the Dowoon sitting only a few feet away from her is a total stranger. Her discomfort only grows when she thinks that maybe she never really knew him in the first place. As if the Dowoon who walks around school looking at his shoes and unable to meet anyone’s eye has simply been a figment of her imagination.  
  
She feels a little sick when the guys finish tuning their instruments and launch into their song.  
  
In another time Nayeon might have actually enjoyed the song that Dowoon’s band is playing. Watching him on the drums is hypnotizing, being able to see a side of him that no one in school will probably ever be able to. There’s an energy vibrating from him with every twirl of his sticks, every flick of his wrists, and Nayeon’s heartbeat in her ears is even louder than the noise around her. He’s standing on a completely different plane from her and if anything else it only convinces her that she’ll never be able to live up to this. How could she even think that she would be good enough to walk side by side with him? Surrounded by a dozen strangers and looking right at the boy she thinks she has a crush on, Nayeon has never felt so alone.  
  
It’s horribly familiar, this feeling. That every time she falls for someone she’s only in love with an idealized version of them instead of seeing reality for what it is. Just like deluding herself that Jinyoung would ever like her back when she knew from the start that he probably never would.  
  
She’s about to turn and leave at the end of the first song when Dowoon suddenly looks out into the crowd and straight at her. For a second Nayeon stops breathing and from the expression on his face it looks like he does the same. Then he smiles at her, a nervous but nonetheless warm smile – one that Nayeon is all too familiar with – and ducks his head at her in greeting. Nayeon immediately feels a wave of relief crash over her shores of doubt. This is the Dowoon she knows; the Dowoon who loses his way to the teacher’s office and waits for her in the cafeteria on rainy days. The Dowoon who walks around school air drumming, whose eyes light up whenever she mentions the sea, who never looks as alive as he does now, behind his drum set. Maybe there has always only ever been one Dowoon. She finds herself nodding back as the band begins their second set, trying to convince herself that the feeling surging through her chest isn’t hope.  
  
  
  
  
In the breakdown rush at the end of their set, Dowoon loses sight of Nayeon. Hauling his cymbals off stage and trying not to get in the way of the others, he scans the crowd but still can’t find her. He wonders if she’s already left. He hopes she hasn’t.  
  
As he unscrews his cymbals and lays them carefully on the ground beside his snare drum, he wonders if she’s the friend Seungcheol was talking about. They’ve never mentioned each other before and though he’s seen Nayeon hanging around the basketball court during training he’d always just assumed that it was because she had nothing else to do.  
  
(And also, maybe, he might have once thought that she was there for him.)  
  
The rest of his band disappears into the crowd after neatly packing up their things, and Dowoon takes a seat at a newly vacated table at the back of the café as the next band begins setting up. He takes a sip of his iced Americano and decides to give up the rest of the night to people watching. It’s a Friday night and he has a history essay due on Monday but he’s got the whole weekend for that; might as well enjoy his time here as much as he can.  
  
Tapping his foot along with the music, Dowoon closes his eyes and finds the drum beats beneath the haze of floaty female vocals and rhythmic guitar. There was always something that drew him to drumming. Singers were the face of the band, guitarists and bassists were flashy and always the coolest looking people on stage. The drums were almost always blocked; drummers were always the least seen and least known members of a band. And Dowoon preferred it that way. Just because one was always in the background didn’t mean that one’s job was insignificant. A song was never complete without a beat.  
  
Quiet but reliable. Just what he always wanted to be. Dowoon sips on his drink and listens.  
  
  
  
  
Just as people begin to dispel into the cool night, Dowoon looks up and catches sight of the girl slouched over the table, her chin propped up in her hand and her eyes closed. She looks like she could be enjoying the music, except the music has ended and the last band is packing up. The only people who remain are those wanting one last caffeine hit before heading home or to the clubs and the musicians waiting to settle with the café owner. Dowoon tries to hide a smile as he gets up, leaving his empty glass behind in its puddle of condensation.  
  
He pulls out the chair opposite her and props his own chin in his hand in an exact mirror of hers as he watches the few strands of hair hanging into Nayeon’s face flutter with every breath. He has half a mind to reach out and tuck them away but that would be kind of weird, not to mention wildly inappropriate. He isn’t sure why he would want to do that anyway; it isn’t really something friends usually do to each other after all. He cocks his head to one side, marveling at her ability to fall asleep without her head tumbling off her hand. And yet with Nayeon it seems entirely fitting.  
  
“Hey Dowoon, we’re gonna be heading off now…” Wonpil suddenly pops out of nowhere. His eyes flit back and forth between Dowoon and Nayeon, and a sly grin appears in the corner of his lips. “I guess you’re not coming with us, huh?”  
  
“Maybe another time,” Dowoon says apologetically with a glance at Nayeon, who continues to snooze.  
  
“That’s cool,” Wonpil flashes him a thumbs up and a knowing grin. “Maybe we’ll go grab a drink then. We’ll just dump your stuff back at Sungjin’s place, yeah?” Dowoon nods vacantly, though he tries to glare at Wonpil all the same. Not that he’d get it anyway. The guy was always terrible at reading atmosphere. Wonpil only winks at him and yells out “Good luck!” before weaving back into the crowd.  
  
Dowoon rolls his eyes and turns back to Nayeon, only to find her staring back at him with wide eyes.  
“Uh... H-hi,” he stammers, flustered. He quickly shoves his hands back on to his knees.  
  
“Hey,” Nayeon says, and he can hear the slight breathlessness in her voice. He supposes it must be because he’s so used to hearing sounds in tune that his hearing has become superhuman. Or it might be because he’s suddenly hyperaware of everything around him; the distance of Nayeon’s feet from his, the sudden pinkness of her cheeks, his heartbeat banging away in his body.  
  
“You came,” he manages.  
  
She smiles, a bunny-toothed smile that immediately makes everything seem more familiar. Suddenly they aren’t sharing a tiny table in a music café in Hongdae in the middle of the night; they’re in the school cafeteria on a rainy day, watching the droplets streak down the glass beside them. “Yeah.”  
  
For a second they just smile at each other, Dowoon’s pulse beginning to slow to something more normal, and then Nayeon looks at her watch. Her eyes widen in horror as she jumps to her feet. “Oh _hell_ I didn’t realize what time it was, I have to get home or my mum will kill me…” she mumbles in a rush, hurriedly checking her bus timetable. “Please don’t tell me I’ve missed the last bus please please please…”  
  
Dowoon takes a deep breath, then stands up beside her and tentatively touches her elbow to remind him that he’s still there. She jumps a little as if she’s actually forgotten, and stares up at him. The look in her eyes is a comical combination of blind panic and terror and he has to keep hard from smiling. “I…” he clears his throat. “I can send you home. If you want.”  
  
“You drive?” Nayeon suddenly looks more hopeful.  
  
“Not exactly…” Dowoon rubs the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Nayeon blinks.  
  
  
  
  
“Here,” Dowoon pops open the back carrier of his scooter and takes out a white helmet. “It might be a little big for you but…” Nayeon pops it on immediately. He tries to keep from chuckling when it falls over her eyes. It’s more than a little big for her, but he thinks they should manage. He helps her adjust the strap under her chin, oddly aware of every brush of his fingertips against her skin. It’s strange, really, this feeling. As if he’s breathing too much and simultaneously forgotten how to breathe.  
  
“Don’t I look like a member of Crayon Pop now?” she asks, hopping up and down as he gets his own helmet out of the seat. He laughs and holds out his hand. There’s a pause before she takes it and he helps her on to the back of the bike.  
  
“Have you ridden one before?” he asks.  
  
She shakes her head.  
  
“You sure you don’t want to call your dad?”  
  
She laughs. “Don’t worry. If I fall I’ll just drag you along with me.”  
  
Dowoon shakes his head as he chuckles and slings his leg over the seat. He turns to face her. She’s made sure to keep herself some distance away, so that no part of them is touching. “Just keep your feet propped up like I showed you. And…” he can’t really meet her eye, “you can hold on to me. If you want.”  
  
He watches the blush creep up her cheeks. “I’ll be okay,” she insists. “Just go slow.”  
  
But as Dowoon turns the key in the ignition and the bike shudders to life, he feels her tense up behind him. He pauses and glances back, seeing Nayeon’s hands gripping the space between them. He twists around again, taking her hands in his. Her hands are as cold as his. He isn’t sure if she’s trembling or if it’s the motor beneath them, but the look in her eyes – whether terror or surprise, he can’t tell - doesn’t wane when he hesitantly tugs her in closer and puts her hands on his waist. “You sure you’ll be okay?” he asks.  
  
“Yeah,” she nods, her helmet knocking slightly against his. Her voice is hoarse and she clears her throat. “I trust you, Dowoon,” she adds quietly. Her breath tickles his cheek and there it is again, that feeling like something is blocking his airways. For a second Dowoon feels like he’s drowning but she smiles reassuringly at him. The feeling subsides.  
  
“I’ll go slow,” he promises. Her smile widens.  
  
As Dowoon kicks off, Nayeon shifts even closer, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Her chin presses into the back of his shoulder and he can feel her body rising and falling with each breath. Dowoon recalls the rush he felt when he first saw her standing in the front row, when their eyes first met. The surprise made him lightheaded, and he almost forgot to start off the song. Back then it took a while for the sudden heat in his face and neck to subside. This time, even the cold night air streaming past him isn’t enough to cool him down.  
  
  
  
  
He pulls up just in front of her house. Everywhere is still and quiet, as if they are the only two people in the world. The cherry blossom tree just beyond the gate seems to glow in the dark. Nayeon keeps her arms around him even after they’ve stopped, then gingerly lets him go. Dowoon has half a mind to pull her back. She puts her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she gets off – just for the tiniest fraction of a second – and he takes a deep breath before pulling off his helmet, feeling her fingers imprint themselves into his jacket forever.  
  
“Thank you for the ride,” Nayeon fumbles with the helmet clasp but manages to get it off before he can reach out and help her. Her cheeks are still faintly red and her hair tangled, but she looks as if she’s just had the best time of her life. “It was less scary than I expected. I’ve never done anything like this before, you know.” She hands the helmet back to him and he takes it, being extra careful not to brush against her.  
  
“I hope you had fun tonight,” he says instead.  
  
She laughs, and the night air doesn’t seem so cold anymore. “I loved it.” She lingers at the gate as if she wants to say something else but then seems to change her mind and unlatches the lock carefully. “I’ll see you on Monday?”  
  
“See you on Monday,” Dowoon nods with a smile and wave.  
  
There’s a moment where Nayeon lifts her hand to wave back, then bends towards him as if to tell him a secret. Instinctively, Dowoon leans in but then she seems to change her mind again, biting on her lower lip as she regards him from the gate. “Okay, well, bye! Get home safe!” she bursts out without warning, then hurriedly turns and disappears.  
  
Dowoon stores her helmet and puts on his own. He waits for the faint hint of a distant light being turned on to appear in the front windows before kicking off and speeding down the street, trying his best to wipe the giant grin from his face and absolutely failing.  
  
  
  
  
Nayeon sprints up the stairs into her room just in time to see Dowoon’s tail-lights disappear around the corner. She takes a deep breath to calm her hammering heart and throws herself on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out how the hell she’s going to tell Seungcheol about what just happened.  
  
  
  
  
“Wait, wait, wait,” Seungcheol puts down the controller and regards her with a stare. “Lemme get this straight. Dowoon took you home? On his motorbike? And let you put your arms around him? Jesus, this is beginning to sound like a really bad drama.”  
  
Nayeon throws a cushion in his face with a scowl. “Shut up, you’ve never even done anything remotely romantic in your life.”  
  
“You’re right,” Seungcheol throws the cushionn back and resumes the game. “I can’t relate. Good for you though, really. But hey, he really moves fast doesn’t he? I mean it’s not like you guys were even friends in the first place. He really didn’t seem like the type.”  
  
“Mmm,” says Nayeon, and hurriedly takes a sip of her chocolate milk. There’s a second of uncomfortable silence before Seungcheol whips his head around to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. She glances at him and immediately looks away, choosing to stare at the still screen instead.  
  
“Im Nayeon,” he deadpans. “All those times you said you were having lunch with Jisoo-K... don’t tell me you were actually having lunch with Yoon Dowoon instead.”  
  
“I might have run into him once or twice,” Nayeon mumbles around her straw.  
  
“Christ in heaven,” Seungcheol leans his head back against the couch, looking as if he’s had all the wind knocked out of him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. You were actually friends? Dude. All this time I was embarrassing the hell out of myself trying to be a wingman for you, you were already wingman-ing yourself? Wow. Im Nayeon. I can’t believe you would do this to me.”  
  
“What?” Nayeon furrows her eyebrows. “What do you mean you were wingman-ing for me?”  
  
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seungcheol exhales loudly through his nose. “The point is you didn’t even need me. You probably would’ve been able to find out about the gig without me.” He picks up the controller and goes back to his game. “Next time I’ll think twice before doing something nice for you. You don’t need my help anymore, right?”  
  
There’s a silence where he goes to pick a fight with some monsters and Nayeon waits for him to finish before sidling up to him. “Seungcheol.”  
  
“What?” he huffs, staring resolutely at the screen.  
  
“Sorry I didn’t tell you.”  
  
He huffs again and turns to face her. She looks so genuinely sorry – so very unlike Nayeon – that for a fraction of a second he almost lets it go. Almost. But they wouldn’t be best friends if they didn’t at least try to get even, and hell if he’s going to let this opportunity pass.  
  
“I’ll forgive you for now,” he says nonchalantly. “I’ll think of your punishment later.” He laughs as Nayeon groans in protest and beings pummeling him with her cushion.  
  
  
  
  
Seungcheol watches Dowoon carefully for any changes in his demeanor during lunchtime practice. He seems just as awkward and shy as always, and Seungcheol wonders if that night had as big an effect on him as it did on Nayeon. It was impossible to tell anything with this guy.  
  
“So how was your gig?” he ventures at the end of practice.  
  
“It was pretty good.” Dowoon takes a long drag from his water bottle. “I think it went well.”  
  
“Did you meet Nayeon?” Seungcheol prods further.  
  
Dowoon doesn’t reply as he screws the cap back on his bottle. “Yeah I did,” he says lightly. “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”  
  
“Hmm, yeah,” Seungcheol decides not to delve any further into that. Wouldn’t want Dowoon to get the wrong idea. “She’s… interesting.” By interesting he meant loudmouthed, rough and violent as hell but of course he wasn’t going to tell Dowoon that.  
  
Dowoon looks back out across the basketball court with a barely suppressed grin. “Yeah, she’s pretty interesting,” he agrees. He looks like he’s about to say more but is interrupted by the bell going. Still, in that brief grin Seungcheol sees all of Nayeon’s hopes and dreams come to life. _Perfect._  
  
“Just you wait Im Nayeon,” he smirks to himself. “You’re not even gonna know what hit you.”  
  
“What?” Dowoon blinks at him.  
  
“Nothing,” Seungcheol gets to his feet and brushes off his trousers. “You know,” he slings an arm around Dowoon’s shoulders as they walk back to class. “If you ever need girl advice I’m known as something of an expert on the subject.” He winks and points a finger gun at Dowoon. “Remember, if you need help with anything I’ve got you man.”  
  
Dowoon only laughs awkwardly and doesn’t meet his eye before they go their separate ways.  
  
  
  
  
“Are you going to the teacher’s office?” Dowoon looks up from the pile of books in his arms. Nayeon smiles back, a stack in her own arms. “Let’s go together.”  
  
They walk on quietly, Dowoon hoping she wouldn’t hear his pulse racing under his skin, footsteps falling in perfect time with each other. His thoughts are racing a 100 miles a second and he feels like he needs to say something, anything. It’s strange. He’s never really felt the need to fill the silence between them before.  
  
“Hey, what are you going to do over summer?” Nayeon suddenly enquires.  
  
“I don’t know. Maybe head back to Busan for a few weeks? I haven’t decided yet. My mum -,” he cuts himself off and clears his throat. “I mean, I might stay here in Seoul and explore. My dad might probably just make me stay home and study.”  
  
Nayeon pulls a pained face. “Oh my God, my parents are probably going to make me do that too! That would be the worst. I’d really like to go the beach, you know. Maybe I’ll take a trip to my home town.” She turns shining eyes towards him. “Wouldn’t it be cool if we visited each other’s towns? We can bring Seungcheol along too. Drag him out of his comfort zone.”  
  
“Umm,” Dowoon blinks. Is she asking him out? Granted she mentioned bringing Seungcheol along but still. “I…” He clears his throat. “I guess that might be nice,” he manages in a low voice, lower even than his usual, which he didn’t think was possible. “I mean, my hometown’s pretty small and the beach isn’t even really that nice but…”  
  
Her lips stretch into a smile. “We’ll just call it an adventure. Anyway, I’m sure it’s just as cool as you are. You know, you’re really super cool Dowoon.”  
  
Dowoon chokes slightly and feels his neck burning under his collar. He keeps his eyes fixed to the floor in front of him as they keep walking.  
  
  
  
  
Staring blankly at his math homework, Dowoon tries to stop thinking about Nayeon standing in the corridor in front of him, the books in her arms stacked up to almost under her chin. About how her bunny-toothed smile looked extra cute. About how her eyes lit up when she talked about the trip. About the exact tone of her voice when she said “you’re really cool, Dowoon.” Dowoon shakes his head vigorously, trying to clear his thoughts. He’d already handed in a shitty history essay earlier that day and he really needs to concentrate if he wants to finish this math homework tonight but try as he might he can’t seem to push the memory of Nayeon away.  
  
“Okay let’s talk this out,” he says aloud, looking up at the kitchen light. “Maybe I like Nayeon.” He’s surprised by how easily the words slip from his lips. He’s even more surprised to find how much he likes the taste of it on his tongue.  
  
He thinks about how easygoing she is, how she makes him laugh, how she sat with him during lunch when she could have just sat with her friends, how she makes him feel instantly at home every time she smiles. How her laugh makes him forget that he’s all alone in a strange city. He lets out a low, long exhale. _I like Nayeon._ The thought bubbles up and spills over before he can stop it. “You know,” he tells the kitchen light. “That night? I kind of wished she’d never let me go.”  
  
It’s cathartic as hell saying it out loud, even if it’s just to the humming fridge and silent stovetop. As if he’d just been trying to avoid admitting it to himself so he wouldn’t end up like his dad, uprooting everything just to escape a person who no longer loved him. In the end he’d ended up exactly like his old man, hadn’t he? You didn’t need to run away from problems if you ran before they even existed.  
  
Dowoon taps his pen on the blank page of his workbook, chewing on his bottom lip. There is nothing about this whole thing that seems even remotely like a problem and yet… there’s that niggling sensation in the back of his mind, that little voice whispering in his ear that he’s not allowed to even think of happy endings and happily ever afters. Someone else, maybe. But not him.  
  
He groans, dropping his head on to his books. His earphones lie beside him and he puts them in to drown out of the voices. He closes his eyes, resigning himself to the fact that he isn’t going to get any homework done tonight.  
  
  
  
  
The sky is too grey for a spring day. Nayeon twists her hands together as she waits in front of the school gates. She hasn’t seen or spoken to Dowoon since last Monday, apart from little glimpses of the back of his head in the crowded hallways during the end of the day rush. She stares at him every time he passes her class with his earphones in but he never once looks up.  
  
And that moment when she walked into the cafeteria once to find him sitting at his usual spot. She smiled, hand rising for a wave. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before he looked away. Her smile faded. He didn’t look back.  
  
The rain intensifies a little and she pulls her umbrella out of her bag, periodically glancing at her watch. She’s been waiting for half an hour and he still hasn’t appeared. Had she been too rash when she suggested that summer trip? She’d texted Seungcheol gushing that she’d managed to rope Dowoon to hang out with them over summer and he was damn well coming too, but he just replied with a _lol k_.Or maybe she’d scared him off when she told him he was cool. She hadn’t really meant to say it out loud. It had sort of just slipped out. The number of students leaving have trickled down to just one or two who give her strange looks when they pass but Nayeon doesn’t see them. She grinds her shoe down into the asphalt and keeps waiting.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?” she hears the next second. Nayeon blinks, shaking off the light snooze that had taken over her. She stares at the familiar trainers in front of her, and shifts the umbrella so she can see Seungcheol’s bewildered stare. He has a towel around his neck and his hair is still damp with sweat.  
  
“I must’ve fallen asleep,” Nayeon mumbles, getting groggily to her feet. She dusts off her skirt. “I was waiting for…” She stops when she realizes that the person standing a little behind Seungcheol is none other than Dowoon himself.  
  
It’s a silence that lasts too long to be called comfortable. Seungcheol doesn’t seem to know what to do either, mouth opening and closing as he looks between the both of them. “Hey,” Nayeon finally manages with a bright smile. “Long time no see. How’s it going?”  
  
“Good,” Dowoon says in a low voice. He doesn’t look directly at her and his own smile is uneasy. His cheeks are faintly red but whether from their recently ended basketball practice or from something else she can’t tell. “Hey Seungcheol, I’ll go on ahead okay? See you tomorrow.” He pats said boy on the shoulder and leaves without another word.  
  
Seungcheol watches the corners of Nayeon’s mouth droop as she stares at Dowoon’s retreating back. Her arm holding the umbrella falls too, and the spokes clatter on the asphalt. Seungcheol hates that he’s seen this expression on her face before – it’s the very same one she had when Park Jinyoung broke her heart.  
  
“I screwed up,” Nayeon says to no one in particular. He hates the blank look in her eyes.  
  
“Come on,” he picks up the fallen umbrella and holds it over both their heads. “I’ll walk you home.” He tugs on her arm and she relents easily. Too easily. They begin walking in the other direction in silence. “Hey, I’ll get you a chocolate bun if you want,” Seungcheol nudges her when the convenience store comes into view. “An apple juice too.”  
  
But Nayeon just shakes her head. “I just want to go home.”  
  
“Okay.” Seungcheol squeezes her shoulder. “Let’s go home.”  
  
  
  
  
“Yo,” Seungcheol swaggers easily into the classroom and takes the empty seat beside Dowoon’s desk. “You’re not getting anything to eat?”  
  
“I’ve got food from home,” Dowoon removes his earphones and points at the unopened tupperware in front of him.  
  
“Yeah? Well it’s not going to eat itself if you keep staring out the window.” Seungcheol scoops up the container. Dowoon looks like he’s about to protest but doesn’t say anything. Seungcheol turns the plastic box over in his hands, pretending to scrutinize it. “Come and have lunch with me and Nayeon. She got into one of her weird cooking moods again and made a load of triangle kimbap so… it’s always better to share with friends, right?”  
  
“Uhh, no, I mean, I don’t think Nayeon would…” Dowoon falters slightly and looks out the window again to compose himself. “I’ll be okay with my food.” His lips stretch into a smile that might have meant to be reassuring but looks more like a grimace. “Thanks for the invite, though.”  
  
Seungcheol’s eyes narrow. He stands up, puts the container down and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You know, I’d really appreciate it if you stopped acting like that.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
Seungcheol looks to the back of the classroom where the lockers are, screwing up his mouth a little as he contemplates the next words he’s going to say. The things he does for his blockhead of a best friend. He closes his eyes and huffs a sigh before leaning over and planting his hands on the desk. “I’ll keep this nice and clean. You know Nayeon likes you, don’t you? And you like her. I can tell. So stop being an awkward little shit and come eat lunch with us.”  
  
Dowoon’s face is oddly obstinate. Seungcheol’s never seen such an expression on him before. It’s as if they’ve been thrown into an alternate reality and the Dowoon sitting in front of him isn’t the Dowoon he knows. “I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself, you know.”  
  
For a second Dowoon stares at his unopened container, pursing his lips. Then he bows his head and gets to his feet, taking the tupperware with him. “I never said that I needed help. You knew I wasn’t comfortable having any of you come to watch me perform.”  
  
“You said that was okay.”  
  
“I didn’t know you were going to give it to her!” Dowoon bursts out. “Why do you care so much about me and Nayeon anyway? Are you in love with her or something?”  
  
Seungcheol scowls despite the unexpected outburst. He’s tried being friendly, tried playing this off as something that Dowoon just might not be able to handle but if the guy is going to keep being like this he’ll just have to stop playing Mr. Nice Guy. “She’s my best friend, you bastard. You don’t even know half the shit she’s been through.”  
  
Dowoon closes his eyes and inhales deeply, then exhales just as heavily. “Sorry, Seungcheol. But I kind of want to be alone right now.” He straightens and walks past with the air of someone who has nothing more to say.  
  
“Aren’t you always alone anyway?” Seungcheol says out loud without turning around. He hears Dowoon’s footsteps pause, then the door slides closed with a gentle thump. Seungcheol runs a tongue over his teeth and stays by himself for a few minutes before returning to his own classroom. Nayeon is laughing with Jisoo-K and Jisoo-H, several containers in the center of her desk. He stands in the doorway and watches her for a moment. Her smile still looks like a normal Nayeon one, bright and bunny-toothed, but something has been off about it ever since Dowoon completely ignored her. It unsettles him.  
  
She notices him there and waves at him. “Here,” she tosses a misshapen kimbap at him and he catches it deftly. “It’s tuna-gochujang. Hong wanted to eat it but I saved it for you.” She peers at his face as he flumps ito his chair. “Are you okay? Where’d you go?”  
  
“Had some stuff to take care of,” Seungcheol says shortly. He unwraps the plastic wrap and bites into the seaweed. “Sorry,” he mumbles while chewing. Nayeon doesn’t seem to hear him, listening intently to both Jisoos complaining about their duties as class reps and why people don’t seem to take them seriously. He doesn’t know if he’s apologizing to her or Dowoon or both.  
  
  
  
  
Early summer slides its way into their lives without anyone really noticing. The days are longer now, and pleasantly warm. Despite spending most of his time in class perfecting the art of sleeping with his eyes open, Seungcheol manages to somehow ace all their pop quizzes except English. Nayeon keeps getting terrible scores in math. She doesn’t go to the cafeteria anymore.  
  
Except for the times when Dowoon walks past the classroom, she doesn’t go looking for him. If they pass each other in the hall she tries to engage in active conversation with whoever she’s with just to distract herself. Dowoon always has his earphones in and his eyes on his feet anyway. She watches him every single time. He never looks back.  
  
“He doesn’t come for practice anymore,” Seungcheol says curtly when she wonders aloud how Dowoon is doing. Seungcheol’s expression seems to be a little darker these days, and Nayeon always notices the look of disappointment in his eyes every time Dowoon silently walks past them. She doesn’t know what went down between them, and she’s not about to ask. After all, it was her insistence that got them all into this mess, wasn’t it?  
  
The first thing she notices when she gets home that day is that the television is on. Which is a little weird, considering she was pretty sure she turned it off before she left that morning. Furrowing her eyebrows, she sets her backpack on the floor and tiptoes furtively into the living room to investigate.  
  
“Hello Nayeonie,” says a voice behind her. It’s smooth and velvety, just like melted butter, and all of a sudden Nayeon’s heart is beating nineteen to the dozen. “It’s been a while huh?”  
  
She turns. “Jinyoung oppa?”  
  
  
  
  
“Seriously, you could’ve told us you were coming back for the weekend,” Nayeon grumbles as she bangs the pot of water on the stove and brusquely turns on the fire. “Then I wouldn’t have had a mini heart attack thinking some stranger was in the house.”  
  
“I’ve barely been gone for 6 months and I’m already a stranger, huh?” Jaebum puts a hand to his chest and feigns disappointment. “You’re still as ugly as ever, anyway.”  
  
Nayeon pokes her tongue out at him and he does likewise until Jinyoung re-enters the kitchen. She immediately collects her expression into something a little more civilized. She’s not trying to impress Jinyoung anymore, but old habits die hard. “I’m sorry my brother’s still as useless as ever,” she says cheerfully. “Can I get you a drink?”  
  
“No, I’m alright,” Jinyoung smiles as Jaebum rolls his eyes and walks back towards the television. “How have you been, Nayeon?”  
  
“I’ve been okay,” she answers as evenly as she can, trying not to dwell too much on the way his voice rises slightly on her name. it sounds completely different to the way Dowoon says it. In fact everything about Jinyoung just seems like the polar opposite of Dowoon, his voice, his demeanour, his clothes. He’s leaning casually against the counter, and she can’t help feeling that he even seems different from the Jinyoung she last saw 6 months ago. She wonders if people change once they get to university. God only knows Jaebum hasn’t. “Still being really bad at math,” she adds with a laugh.  
  
He chuckles, his eyes crinkling in the corners. It is heartbreaking and familiar all at once, and for a second Nayeon wants to burst into tears all over again. “Hey, it was almost this time last year when I tutored you in English, wasn’t it? Time flies so fast.” She notices that he doesn’t mention tutoring her in math.  
  
“Right? I can’t believe I’m already in my last year of high school. How did you even manage to get through it? I feel like my head’s going to explode from all the work they’re giving us.”  
  
“I think helping you made it easier for me to remember stuff too.” The pot begins bubbling and Nayeon goes to put the naengmyeon in to cook. Jinyoung hands her the wooden spoon and she sets the timer to 4 minutes.  
  
“I think it was just that you were too smart,” Nayeon leans against the counter too, sipping on her water. “I’m sure university is like a piece of cake for you.”  
  
He smiles again. “It could be better. You know, I kind of missed you Nayeon.”  
  
Nayeon tilts her head to the side, letting the words seep into her skin. “I missed you too, Jinyoung oppa.” She flashes a bright smile; one she hopes masks how every single thread she’d used to slowly, painstakingly sew herself back together is unravelling at her feet. Jinyoung starts talking about how different university is from high school but she’s only half-listening as she tries to hold herself together.  
  
  
  
  
It’s been a spectacularly great day, and Dowoon decides that if he’s going to skip out on basketball practice again he might as well get a run in before the day is over. At the very least he’ll have a reason to get out of the house. He’s getting a little sick of talking to the refrigerator.  
  
Feet pounding down the asphalt, Dowoon concentrates on keeping each step perfectly in time with his music. No time for breaks or to catch your breath. There are no captains here to yell at you when you begin to fall behind, no teammates to push you when your legs can’t move anymore. No friends to pull you to your feet when you fall.  
  
Dowoon comes to a stop at the playground, his usual checkpoint, panting hard and bending over to try and catch his breath. He straightens, and catches sight of the girl slumped on one of the swings. Her head is bowed, dark hair covering her face. She could be anyone really, but the minute he rests his eyes on her Dowoon is 100% sure that it’s Nayeon. He takes an automatic step forward. Then another. And another. It’s like he doesn’t have any control over his legs anymore as he walks soundlessly up to her. He’s never seen her like this before – curled up into herself, her hands lying limp in her lap. The swing is completely stationary.  
  
“Nayeon.” He crouches down in front of her, touches her cautiously on the shoulder. She jumps violently, staring wildly at him. “Dowoon?” she says incredulously, quickly swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She can’t hide the fact that they’re red although she quickly looks away, and Dowoon feels instant guilt beginning to settle in his stomach.  
  
“What are you doing here?” they ask at the same time and Nayeon manages a small smile. Dowoon doesn’t smile, not when he can see the tear rolling down her cheek.  
  
“Are you okay?” he asks, lifting a hand to wipe it away and pulling himself back in time. She nods furiously, not seeming to have noticed. She meets his gaze and they both instantly look away, Dowoon noticing her hands clenching on her knees. His own hands curl into fists. He’d tried so hard to stay away from her so he wouldn’t hurt her but he still ended up hurting her anyway. He gets to his feet, still looking down at her hands. “Were… were you crying over me?”  
  
Her stare is incredulous. “Why the hell would I be crying over you?”  
  
It stings. It stings even more than Seungcheol’s jab at his loneliness. When was the last time he spoke to Seuncheol anyway? Had it really only been a month? It felt like years had passed and yet every time he recalled the expression on Seungcheol’s face it made him flinch. Every time he thought about Nayeon’s fading smile it made him feel like he was going to be sick. He takes a seat in the swing beside her, swaying slightly in it. “…I’m sorry Nayeon.”  
  
Her expression softens a little but she doesn’t say anything. Her hands relax her grip, then tighten up even more. “I’m tired,” she finally says. She isn’t looking at him anymore, just staring out at the empty playground. “I’m tired of people saying things they don’t mean. I’m tired of falling for the same old thing every single time. ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I missed you’, ‘I want you to stop liking me’. I wish people wouldn’t say things they don’t mean.” She bows her head again.  
  
Dowoon has no idea what she’s talking about. He digs into the pockets of his windbreaker and finds the packet of tissues he always keeps with him just in case. He passes it wordlessly to Nayeon and waits until her sniffles begin to lessen.  
  
“My parents got divorced when I was 10,” he says aloud. He stares out at the sun beginning to set between the rooftops, washing everything in a golden glow. “My mum had an affair with some guy from work and I was the one who snitched on her.”  
  
He takes a deep breath. Nayeon doesn’t say anything. He tries to give her a reassuring smile. It tastes bitter on his lips. “You know, my dad… he ran from my mum for years, even when they were still together. I guess he was afraid to love her too much, afraid that she would get tired and push him away. So he pushed her away first. That way he could still love her even after she moved on, because he could say it was his fault instead of hers. I guess, in a way, having an idiot son kind of worked in his favour, since I only sped up the process.” He wants to stop talking, he _should_ stop talking, but it’s as if all the cracks in his carefully constructed dam have finally buckled under the pressure and everything’s he held in over the years is flooding out, threatening to drown him.  
  
“When my parents divorced I stopped talking. The other kids stayed away from me. I thought I deserved it, to be honest. No one wants to be friends with a divorce kid. But then I moved here.” He locks his fingers together and holds on tight. “And for the first time in my life I felt what it was like to be happy.”  
  
He clenches his fists to try and steady his shaking hands. “For the first time in my life I had friends. Friends to hang out with. Friends to pick me up when I fell. I met a guy who was the first person to hang out with me after school. And I met a girl, and the first time she smiled at me I forgot what loneliness felt like.” He looks at her. “She was the first person who made me feel like I might actually be someone worthy of, well, actually living.”  
  
“I was that girl.” She has a peculiar expression on her face, a strange semblance of recognition.  
  
“You were that girl.”  
  
He suddenly feels exhausted. He can’t remember the last time he poured his feelings out on to something other than the fridge or his drums. What is he supposed to do now that the dam has burst? Is he supposed to just build it back up and pretend it never cracked?  
  
“You know, when I told on my mum no one blamed me. They all said I was innocent. But I’ve always thought, up til today, that I was to blame for their divorce. Maybe it would’ve ended sooner or later anyway.” He shrugs. “But then again maybe it wouldn’t have. And it was that little possibility that things might have worked out that still haunts me. I didn’t deserve to be happy, since I’d broken up my own family. I didn’t deserve good friends or to fall in love with someone. And when I realized how happy I was with you… I remembered that I didn’t deserve any of it. So I pushed you away. You and Seungcheol.” He swallows. “I was selfish. I’m sorry, Nayeon.”  
  
Nayeon still doesn’t say anything. Silence descends over them, but Dowoon feels lighter than he has ever felt in years. “This time last year I was in love with someone else,” she finally starts softly. “This person made me feel like I was worth something, too. And for the longest time I wanted to believe that he liked me back even when I knew he didn’t. And he didn’t. So in the end I only hurt myself.”  
  
Dusk wraps itself around them as the sun sinks further behind the rooftops. The air feels a little colder as the shadows stretch across the playground.  
  
Nayeon scuffs her feet on the ground. Her swing sways back and forth with the movement. “I talked to him recently and ended up falling right back to pieces. But, you know, in a way I’m kind of glad that he hurt me. I ended up becoming the same sort of person to you that he was to me. And I think that pain was worth it. Because if he never rejected me I would have never met you, and I think that would’ve been even sadder.” She lifts her eyes to his. “I’ve come to realize something. We all carry our pasts with us and that’s okay. Maybe we can let it teach us something. But we can’t let it overstay. Sometimes we just have to let it go.”  
  
They lapse into silence again. It’s the same kind of silence as when they sat together during rainy day lunchtimes, the same kind of silence as when he dropped her off at home. The kind of silence that makes it feel like they’re the only two people in the world. “Thanks Nayeon. For everything.”  
  
She smiles that familiar bunny-toothed smile that he’s come to associate with the feeling of coming home, and he thinks that maybe it’s okay for him to stop rebuilding the dam around him. Maybe it’s okay for him to keep the water free flowing. He can almost smell the salt in the air as the sun disappears behind the rooftops.  
  
  
  
  
“Where the hell are we even going?” Seungcheol groans as she drags him down the street. “It’s the weekend and I don’t appreciate having you in my house so early in the morning. Seriously, why does my mum even let you in? It’s not like you’re her daughter-in-law or something.” He keeps grumbling even when Nayeon shoves two slices of toast into his hands to make him shut up.  
  
“Come on, this is probably the last time we can enjoy ourselves until exams. And then we can do this every day when summer comes!” she throws her hands up in the air, narrowly avoiding taking his eye out with her finger. “But for now just shut up and follow me, okay?”  
  
Seungcheol raises his eyebrows when they end up at the convenience store. “Well, this is exciting.” Nayeon kicks him as she pushes him down at an outdoor table and goes to get some drinks. “Seriously, what are we doing Nayeon?”  
  
“Any minute now…” Nayeon mutters, looking at her watch as she sips on her grape juice. She keeps one eye on the street and bursts into a wide grin when someone appears.  
  
“What…” Seungcheol starts, and sinks back down in his chair when he sees who the person approaching is. “Im Nayeon, you did not.”  
  
“Just think of it as wingman-ing,” Nayeon gets to her feet and smirks devilishly at him. She ruffles his hair roughly. “I didn’t thank you properly for getting Dowoon’s gig for me, did I? Consider my debt repaid to you.”  
  
“How does this make it even when I didn’t ask for this?” Seungcheol splutters, but Nayeon only laughs as Dowoon saunters up to the table, looking as surprised as Seungcheol is to see him. He looks questioningly at Nayeon after shooting Seungcheol a strained smile. She only pats them both on the shoulder with a wink at Seungcheol.  
  
“Well, I’ve got stuff to do so I’ll just head off now. You guys don’t have too much fun without me, okay? Bye!” she skips off before Seungcheol can stop her, and he heaves a huge sigh of resignation before slumping back in his chair. Dowoon remains standing, looking around the area. The silence is even more stifling than when they first met.  
  
“Look -,” Seungcheol starts just as Dowoon says “You know -.” For the first time in a month Seungcheol finds himself looking straight into Dowoon’s eyes. They both grin, even if it’s still uncertain on Dowoon’s part and awkward on his. Still, Dowoon seems to relax considerably. Seungcheol sighs.  
  
“Damn it,” he gets to his feet, putting his hand on his hips. “I should’ve murdered her in her sleep. Do you wanna get an ice cream?”  
  
Dowoon looks surprised all over again. He damned well better, Seungcheol thinks. “It’s on me,” he adds. But to his surprise Dowoon shakes his head. “If you’re still gonna be like that, I swear Yoon Dowoon -.”  
  
“I’ll get this one,” Dowoon grins instead. “You can get it the next time and then we’ll call it even, okay?”  
  
“But you got it the last time,” Seungcheol furrows his eyebrows.  
  
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t a very good friend to you after that,” Dowoon mumbles, but Seungcheol hears him anyway. He settles back down in the chair, hoping that Dowoon would take the opportunity to stop talking. “Look, Seungcheol, I’m so -.”  
  
“Nope,” Seungcheol leans back in his chair holding out a hand. “I’m not hearing it. Just make sure you come back for basketball practice. It’s been a real pain the ass trying to get the kiddos to replace you, you know that? And I’ll get a Melona if you don’t mind, thanks.”  
  
Dowoon bursts out laughing and flashes a thumbs-up. It’s carefree and natural, and not one that he’s ever produced before. He comes back in almost not time, tossing the bar into Seungcheol’s lap and holding out his strawberry Melona as he seats himself in the other chair and pulls it in, plastic scraping against concrete. “Cheers,” he says merrily.  
  
Seungcheol unwraps his own Melona and knocks it against his, the icicles on the packet melting instantly under the glare of the sun. “Cheers,” he echoes. Dowoon’s smile is blinding. Seungcheol is sure it’s a perfect mirror of his own.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Nayeon closes her eyes as she breathes in the humid, muggy air. The sun feels like heaven on her skin, although she knows in a few minutes she’ll be in danger of overheating. Trains keep rumbling past, and the people bustling past pay her no attention. She digs the toe of her sandal into the tiled floor, hoisting her backpack further up her back. The shimmering city in the distance makes everything seem a little more magical and she shields her eyes as she gazes up at the blue sky.  
  
“Couldn’t have picked better weather, honestly,” says a sudden voice on her left.  
  
“You’re gonna end up blind if you keep doing that,” adds another voice to her right.  
  
Nayeon grins at Dowoon, then swivels around to scowl up at Seungcheol. Both boys are carrying plastic bags in addition to their backpacks, and she eyes them questioningly.  
  
“Buns,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “And yes, I got you chocolate _and_ curry.”  
  
“Drinks,” Dowoon holds his up. “Apple and grape.” His hand nudges against her arm as he sets the bag back down and he smiles at her when she raises her eyes to his. She screws up her nose despite the laughter in her eyes. “You look even more like a bunny when you do that,” he tells her.  
  
“Especially when it’s with your ugly smile,” Seungcheol smirks.  
  
“I think your smile is pretty,” Dowoon protests, looking horrified. Seungcheol bursts out laughing as his ears turn a bright red when he realizes he’s been caught out. Nayeon steps on Seungcheol’s foot, although she can’t help feeling extremely pleased too. She pats Dowoon’s arm comfortingly as he heaves a huge sigh and doesn’t say another word until the train appears in the distance.  
  
“Here we go,” Seungcheol watches the train as it approaches the station. He suddenly digs an elbow into Nayeon’s side. “You still have the tickets don’t you?”  
  
She rolls her eyes in response. “I’m not that irresponsible Choi Seungcheol.” He only laughs and nudges her again.  
  
As the train pulls to a stop, Nayeon closes her eyes. This would be the last summer that she would ever spend in high school. Who knows where she would be in another year, who the people around her would look like? Time keeps flowing, pulling her along in the current, but she’s beginning to learn that it isn’t always a bad thing.  
  
“Im Nayeon, what the hell are you doing?” Seungcheol’s voice snaps her out of it. “Are you coming along or what?”  
  
Nayeon looks at him, one foot on the step of the entrance into the train, one eyebrow raised inquiringly. She looks at Dowoon, grinning as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, the sun glinting off the black studs in his ears and painting his hair a dark brown. “Ready?” he asks, holding a hand out to her.  
  
She takes it. To hell with the future, to hell with the past, she’s here in the present now with two of her favourite people in the world. And she’s going to live here with them, for as long as she can. She tugs him forward and grabs Seungcheol’s arm, smiling. “Let’s go.”  
  
Seungcheol scoffs, but he grins back as he pulls her up the stairs, Dowoon’s hand still  wrapped tightly in hers.

 

 

 

 

*


End file.
